- Text Size +

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Two: “No Place Like Home

Four Weeks Later…

It was dawn on the prairie in Elis County, Kansas. Rich hues of pink met purple while cumulous clouds still clung to the last remnants of night as the sun made its ascent. A single tree provided a silhouette against the brightening sky, its branches meeting the light wind with little resistance. On mornings like this, it was easy to forget that the world was no longer the same.

“So you’ve been gone a long time, Ms. Lisinski,” Lieutenant Hamilton commented as he looked toward his civilian passenger. Heather had found her attaché to be exceedingly friendly, more so than any other military officer she had encountered. His sandy blond hair was topped by a military issued cap, and his deep voice lilted in a slight Southern drawl. What Heather noticed most was his easy smile. And yet holstered to his body were his side arms.

Heather nodded. “In more ways than one.”

The second lieutenant was a far more pleasant companion than Heather had recently known; nevertheless, the 238 mile trip seemed achingly long. With the gang activity and general lawlessness in this region of the country, they’d taken extra precautions to travel safely. Alas, safely equaled slowly.

The trip was a culmination of an even longer journey. She had spent the better part of the last month in and out of consciousness. Shortly after her encounter with Colonel Hoffman, she’d blacked out. The next two weeks went by in a blur. She’d awoken on several occasions to find herself in a medical facility with IVs attached to her arm, feeding liquids into her aching and feverish body. Invariably, as soon as she’d wake, a nurse would appear, soothe her, and she’d sleep again.

When she finally could keep her eyes open for longer than a few moments, she began what had proved to be a tortuously long undertaking: finding a way home.

Heather was reminded of a movie, The Wizard of Oz, which she used to watch each year with her mother and father when it came on TV. It was a tradition for them and one she eagerly anticipated. There weren’t many things that she was watched as a youngster, partly because of the protectiveness of her parents but also partly because a set of rabbit ear antennas is what allowed what little television reception they had. In thinking back on that movie, she remembered how frightened she’d been by the Wicked Witch of the West and how her parents explained that while there were people in the world, like the witch, who weren’t good, the good outweighed the bad. Like Dorothy, she found herself in unfamiliar territory following an unimaginable disaster. The military base was her Oz, and she was Dorothy, desperate to go home to Kansas. Yet no one seemed willing to assist her until yesterday evening, and Heather was decidedly lacking in the ruby slippers department.

“You must be someone important to warrant a military transport.”

“I think they just got tired of me trying to stow away on and/or commandeer their vehicles on base.” She shook her head. “I would make a terrible spy. I’m not sneaky enough.”

“You’re lucky, Ms. Lisinski, that they didn’t shoot you for that.” Lieutenant Hamilton’s hazel eyes widened. “It’s always the innocent lookin’ ones that cause the most trouble.”

She shrugged. “So, Lieutenant Hamilton, where are you from?”

“Tennessee.” He gestured to the view out the heavily tinted windows. “This is pretty country, but it’s nothin’ like the hills in my back yard.”

Heather had never been to Tennessee. Actually, she’d never been much of anywhere, and it wasn’t likely that she was going to have the opportunity any time soon. “Is it strange? Being here, I mean, and not on the other side of the Mississippi? Tennessee is not part of this new government.”

Over the past few days, Heather had the opportunity to watch what limited news coverage there was on a small television in Camp Hayward. What had been the United States was now divided into three factions: the Eastern Bloc, which held the vestiges of the old federal government in Columbus, Ohio; the Allied States, headquartered in Cheyenne, Wyoming; and the Republic of Texas. The Mississippi River, the blue line, served as a boundary between the East and West, both of whom were vying for Texas to join them.

After watching the same footage of the explanation of President John Tomarchio’s rise to office being looped repeatedly and then repackaged to be repeated again, Heather could recite the official version of the events: North Korea launched simultaneous nuclear attacks on American soil with the aid of Iran. Scattered and weakened, the U.S. government floundered. Its President dead, the remaining government had been paralyzed by indecision. Then came a junior senator from Wyoming who rallied the troops and took control of the situation, effectively wiping the two countries off the face of the map who were the instigators of the worst crime against humanity ever known.

It was the unofficial version, the multitude of unknowns, that alarmed her, though. In New Bern, she’d watched on a far smaller scale how one man with too much power could compound a bad situation into a dire one. What happened when a man had absolute authority, no checks and balances, resources, and people willing to follow blindly?

“It’s all temporary,” Lieutenant Hamilton insisted. “The Cheyenne government is working to unite us as one nation again, and when we are, our new nation won’t make the same mistakes that the old one did.”

Heather said nothing in response. She’d heard the propaganda pieces and didn’t particularly want to hear them again on the trip. “So do you have a first name, Lieutenant Hamilton?”

“Jacob.”

Heather smiled. “That’s a nice name.”


For Major Edward Beck, being in Jericho following the New Bern War was evocative of his time in Fallujah. The players were different, but the rules were the same. There were those who went along, acted upon what was expedient for themselves. Then there were the ideologues, those who by their very nature were suspicious of anyone from the outside, anyone different whose ideas did not match their world view.

When he was in Fallujah, his mission was to maintain order while winning the people’s hearts and minds. He viewed his task as essentially a form of advertisement. If he could advertise democracy and liberty, much the way companies appeal to customers to buy their products, he knew he could improve the people’s lives. But getting them to buy into a new product while clinging to an old one—that was the challenge.

The same could be said for his experience in Jericho. Beck had already been through a number of small towns, any number of which was grateful for the military presence and the order it provided. For the most part, the people of Jericho had accepted the military graciously. However, there were a few notable exceptions, and those exceptions were the ones who wielded influence on others.

“So it comes down to this. Are you going to be part of the problem or part of the solution?” Major Edward Beck’s question hung in the air as he made eye contact with Jake Green. He spoke with painstaking patience, a tone which, unbeknownst to Beck, only served to infuriate Jake Green more.

For Jake, walking into the space in city hall inhabited by the military was too reminiscent of walking into the principal’s office. The same air of condescension followed Beck that had followed Principal Gerhardt back in the day. They were two men cut from the same ineffective cloth, in Jake’s opinion, caught behind a curtain of rules and regulations.

“I can tell you that we are going to continue to have a problem until justice is served. Lucky for you, I do have a solution.”

Beck scowled and removed his sidearm. Jake had made it exceedingly clear what his form of a solution would entail. Beck emptied the ammunition onto his desk and began the process of disassembling the pistol. Jake supposed he should have been glad that Beck was cleaning the gun instead of aiming it.

“You’ve stood by and let me handle this because you’ve not had a choice. I’m going to give you a choice today, though. I need you, Jake. This town needs someone to believe in. I’m an outsider; I know I’m not that man. That leaves you.”

Jake fought the urge to roll his eyes. This was Principal Gerhardt in an Army uniform. Granted Beck was a few years younger and many pounds lighter than the roly-poly former principal; yet Jake appreciated Beck about as much. Here came the speech about influence, how it can be good or bad. All words and no actions.

“You led this town into a fight to survive for its existence, and you can lead this town into recovery. What I will not allow you to do is lead this town into another bloodbath. I will not tolerate vigilantism. If Jericho is going to survive—if we as a nation are going to survive—we have to set boundaries and adhere to them. A blanket of amnesty has been granted to those involved in the New Bern War. Move on.” With a small brush, he began to scrub the inside of the frame, the barrel, and its internal components.

“Do you think that swooping in and announcing we have a peace treaty with New Bern means that suddenly everything is okay? If it had been your father murdered, your town nearly invaded and destroyed, would you be so willing to let it go?”

Beck looked up at Jake, the pieces of his pistol still within his hands. “Let me tell you something. My town was destroyed. My father was murdered by the blast in San Diego. Those responsible have paid for their actions. Let me do my job here.”

“That’s all I want. For you to do your job.”

Beck’s jaw clenched as he saturated a cleaning patch in a solvent and pushed it slowly through the barrel. “Constantino remains under house arrest while we investigate his actions leading up to the war, actions that involve your brother, Heather Lisinski, and the unexplained disappearance of a number of his own people.”

Jake shook his head. “Not good enough. I listened to Constantino and his men beat my brother to force information about Jericho out of him. He took it over and over. I can still hear those sounds and see my brother, the cuts on his face, the cracked ribs, the bruises. And Heather? Who knows what those monsters did to her?”

“I will find out.”

Since Heather had been gone, Jake found himself thinking of her often. Reminders were everywhere, from the beat up old Dodge truck she used to drive, which was still parked off of Main Street in the small parking lot behind city hall, to the Jericho Library she fought to save from fire. Perhaps her greatest presence was in the form of wind turbines, which helped to keep the medical clinic functional in those darkest days following the New Bern War, some tangible evidence that her actions had saved countless lives since their installation.

It was strange. He hadn’t fully appreciated her until it was too late. Wasn’t that his pattern, though?

If Jake had known Heather Lisinski as a teenager, he probably would have done everything in his power to get her to do his homework. If he’d known her as a younger man, he would have done everything in his power to take advantage of her. As an adult male having known her, Jake did everything in his power to distance himself from her and regretted it beyond words. Vibrant, funny, and completely clueless about just how attractive she was, Heather was one of the many regrets in Jake Green’s life.

There were too many regrets in his life. He would be damned if he let Constantino be added to that list of regrets. “How are you going to do that?” Jake’s tone suggested a lack of confidence in the major.

“Just know that it will be done.”


“You’re being ridiculous,” Heather Lisinski scolded herself as she stepped from the Humvee. “Oh, gosh, I’m losing it. I’m talking to myself again.” She had longed to return, and now that she stood outside the city hall, her palms were sweating profusely despite the chill of the breeze, and her face felt flushed. There were so many things she wanted to know! She’d noted the military presence as their convoy neared the town, and Lieutenant Hamilton had provided sketchy details about the New Bern War. What Heather didn’t know was did Eric make it back safely? How had Jericho faired in the attacks? Was Emily okay? Had she and Roger married yet? Was Jake safe?

Lieutenant Hamilton could see her trepidation. “Well, Dorothy, are you goin’ to stand around all day or are you goin’ to click your heels?”

Heather turned to him and marveled. It was as though he had read her thoughts. He nodded, urging her to go inside.

Walking through the lobby at Jericho City Hall felt surreal at best. Seeing the recognizable faces absorbed in their daily business and hearing the familiar sounds, Heather could almost believe that the past six months were the figment of a very overactive imagination. However, the military presence in the town, as well as the cleanup efforts and repair work being done on several of the buildings in the town square, suggested otherwise.

She’d been gone for months and in those few months had more varied experiences than she’d had in an entire lifetime. She’d learned what it was to fight, to truly struggle to survive, to even…

She pushed the thought from her mind, not allowing herself the luxury of taking that excursion into despair again.

Portraits of Jericho mayors past and present adorned the wall of the lobby. Heather’s gaze rested on Johnston Green. His leadership had seen Jericho through its darkest hours. So many people in his position would have been megalomaniacal, but Mayor Green had the ability to recognize that he was part of a bigger picture and there wasn’t enough room in that bigger picture for a big ego.

The corners of Heather’s lips curled at the memory of a day spent traveling with Johnston, Jake, and Dale to Black Jack. When Johnston and Jake had loaded salt in the trunk of Jake’s car in preparation for the trip, Heather had confronted Jake on his reluctance to let her make the trip with them. When she called Jake on the fact they went nearly a month after she kissed him without talking about it, Johnston had excused himself from the middle of the conversation, but not before shooting his son an “I’m glad it’s you and not me” look.

Her smile fell, though, when she noticed the makeshift memorial of cards and flowers that overflowed from a table under the portraits onto the floor.

Oh no. No!

“Did you know him?” Lieutenant Hamilton asked from behind her.

She nodded silently, willing the growing lump in her throat to dissipate. If only she’d tried harder, if she’d been less foolhardy and more savvy. If she’d not helped New Bern to get its factory operational… There were so many what ifs! The only thing that counted was the here and now, and in the here and now, her friends were hurting, and she was to blame.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lisinski. Do you need a moment?” Hamilton’s orders were to bring her to his CO upon arrival for a debriefing, but allowing her a moment to compose herself was only right, only human.

Heather breathed deeply. “I…I need to get this over with.”

Followed by her attaché, she meandered through the lobby toward the sheriff’s department where she had been instructed to meet with Hamilton’s commanding officer, Major Beck, who was overseeing the military presence in Jericho.

She rounded the corner, and that was when she saw him. His hair was longer than she remembered and several days’ worth of stubble on his cheeks and chin were evident. Of all words, brooding was an apt description for Jake Green. He stood against the wall, seemingly lost in thought, his jaw set in frustration, older somehow. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, as well as the incredible burden he had shouldered.

And still her heart quickened.

It was in that instant he saw her. Before Heather could even blink her eyes, Jake spanned the distance that separated them, pulling her into his arms. They clung to one another, and for the first time, Heather felt herself let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

His hands ran to her hair as he pulled back, staring. Her chestnut colored hair felt as silky as it looked. So many things had gone wrong in the last months, but for this instant, everything felt right. Seeing Heather again, knowing she was safe, made Jake feel less troubled. She looked almost as he remembered. Her features were lovely and delicate, though even slimmer than before. God, she didn’t need to lose weight, but the lack of food had taken its toll on everyone.

Heather thought the smile that radiated from him made the years melt. He looked almost like a boy.

“Oh my God!” Jake felt like pinching himself. He’d hoped and, though he wasn’t necessarily a believer in prayers, he’d even prayed that in spite of what he’d heard that she would find a way to survive. “Don’t worry, Jake. It’ll just be a few days.” He chuckled as he echoed what she’d told him the last time they saw each other. Her final words to him had been etched in his memory. It had gone against every fiber in his being to let her join Ted, Russell, and the others to go to New Bern. But what could he have done to stop her, short of throwing her over his shoulder and forcing her back in his car?

From the look in her eyes, he was beginning to wonder if that’s what he should have done.

She fought back the tears as she rested her hand on his wrist.

“How are you? Are you okay?” His brown eyes sought her blue ones, and she could see the concern that poured from him.

She nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m good. I’m good. Yeah. Lieutenant Hamilton was nice enough to let me hitch a ride back here on his convoy, so…” Her voice trailed off. From the glistening in her eyes, Jake wondered if Heather was really okay, but it was evident that she didn’t want to share more with him just yet. He looked over Heather’s shoulder and saw the young man in fatigues to whom Heather referred. Lieutenant Hamilton, Jake noticed, stood at a respectful distance.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. Feeling her warm breath upon his cheeks, Jake spoke softly. “When Eric told me you were dead, I didn’t want to believe it.”

“Everyone thought I was dead?” Heather whispered, pulling away, her eyes wide with shock. She’d quieted her fears on more than one occasion by persuading herself that help was on its way when, as it turned out, nothing could be further from the truth. She cleared her throat willing herself to maintain composure. “Heather Lisinski and cockroaches—you just can’t get rid of us,” she quipped feebly.

“My brother told me what you did for him back there. I can’t thank you enough.”

Relief flooded over Heather. Eric made it! “I guess he and I are even now, not that I’m keeping score or anything because that would be juvenile.” Oh, no, she was rambling again. She strained to keep her tone light, but her words rang hollow in her own ears. She wondered if they did to Jake, as well.

“I mean it, Heather. Thank you.”

“Jake, I…I don’t deserve your thanks. So much of this is my fault. After what you’ve been through, what you’ve lost…” She took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry about your father. He was a good man.”

“The best. But you’re wrong, Heather. My father’s death had nothing to do with you.” Jake turned and looked toward Major Beck, remembering that they were not alone. Heather herself had not even noticed his presence as she’d been so focused on Jake. “His murderer is sitting in New Bern right now.”

Major Edward Beck met Jake’s steely gaze as he reassembled his sidearm with automaticity. Though he’d not said anything since Heather’s appearance with Lieutenant Hamilton, he’d watched the reunion with keen interest. “Phil Constantino is in custody while the situation is being investigated. Remember what I said, Jake.” An unvoiced warning hung in the air.

“Lieutenant Hamilton reporting as ordered, Sir!” Hamilton saluted.

“At ease, Soldier. This is Ms. Lisinski, I take it?”

Jake looked to Heather feeling somewhat at a loss. Beck knew Heather was alive? He was accustomed to knowing what was going on in his town, but since the military presence a month earlier, information filtered through less, not more.

“This is, Sir.”

Major Beck extended his hand to Heather. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Lisinski. I’m Major Edward Beck. I think you can help us fill in some gaps in what went on here.”

She accepted his hand and shook it. His grasp was firm, strong.

“I’ve already told you what happened,” Jake replied, crossing his arms. Heather had been gone for months, and the look in her eyes showed fragility he’d not remembered seeing before.

“You have, Jake,” Beck acknowledged. “Nevertheless, I would like to hear from Ms. Linsinski. She may be able to provide us with information that you don’t have. You were concerned about whether I was going to do my job. Let me do it.” He spoke patiently. “Ms. Lisinski, are you ready for your debriefing?”

Heather nodded.

“Will I see you later?” Jake asked, the gruffness evaporating from his voice as he turned his attention back to her.

“Yeah. I’ll see you around, Jake.”



You must login (register) to review.